


Risk Trust

by Singerdiva01



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/pseuds/Singerdiva01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night Seska died and Janeway regained control of her ship, the engineer and the captain share a bottle of whiskey and discuss the nature of trust, friendship, and humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risk Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmic_llin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/gifts).



B’Elanna didn’t even notice the captain until after she’d tossed over three tables and shattered one of the stained glass bar signs advertising some fancy French liqueur with a well aimed pool ball right through the center. She’d just picked up another, yellow and white, and sighted the sconce by the entrance when she heard the scrape of wood against wood over by the bar.

The Klingon whirled around, her fist with the ball still raised and ready to fire.

Janeway didn’t flinch but she didn’t speak either. She didn’t even raise an eyebrow. She simply looked B’Elanna up and down, nodded almost imperceptibly, and shifted back around on her bar stool.

B’Elanna felt the fight leave her limbs and when she dropped her arm she let the ball slip from her fingers to the floor. She watched it roll until it hit a piece of debris and came to a halt with a soft click.

“You wanna break something else, holodeck two is probably free. You want a drink, you’re welcome to stay.”

Janeway’s throaty voice reverberated off the walls and underscored the unnatural silence the engineer had failed to notice until now. A quick glance around confirmed the absence of any other human or holo patrons.

For a moment she considered apologizing and leaving the captain to her solitude. It wasn’t hard to guess why the woman was drinking alone in the dead of this night. She’d been planning on doing the same thing, for the same reason, once she’d fully rearranged the decor.

She chose the stool two down from Janeway like the extra foot would keep her at arm’s length. The captain did crack a smile at that, just a little one, before pushing the bottle down the polished wood with almost cinematic grace.

B’Elanna caught it with her palm and reached over the bar for a glass. She wasn’t surprised when she popped the top and the scent of real whiskey invaded her nostrils. She glanced at Janeway, trying to guess how many she’d had, and decided she’d never be able to tell.

Janeway waited for B’Elanna to pour before raising her own glass and an expectant eyebrow.

B’Elanna frowned down into the amber liquid.

“To old friends,” she said finally, her voice thick with sarcasm. She hit the thick bottomed tumbler on the bar and lifted it to her lips, draining it in one gulp.

“Ah.”

Janeway glanced knowingly back over her shoulder at the destroyed room before easily downing her own drink.

B’Elanna used to hate that about the captain, the way she seemed to know exactly what her crew was thinking. Now she found it comforting in the exact way it was intended. She poured herself another shot, pushed the bottle back down the bar and wondered when that had changed and what it meant.

“Seska fooled everyone, B’Elanna, not just you,” Janeway said softly, interrupting her thoughts.

The younger woman clutched her glass so hard her knuckles went white.

“We shared a bunk, Captain. We were best friends. My best friend was a Cardassian spy and I never even suspected,” she spat disgustedly.

Janeway’s expression when she looked up to meet her eyes was as serene and unreadable as always and that fed B’Elanna’s anger. Being unflappable, in her opinion, was far different from being unfeeling and Janeway in general teetered far too close to that line for her tastes.

“She helped take your ship away from you.” B’Elanna narrowed her eyes and aimed her next statement for maximum impact. “She left your crew on that planet to die. One did.”

B’Elanna saw pain flash across the captain’s gray eyes before she ducked her head and immediately, instinctively cursed her Klingon temper. She was about to fumble an apology when Janeway turned back, her expression hard again.

“That was my error in judgment, Lieutenant.”

Her voice was steel but her hand shook slightly when she picked up her glass, drained it, and poured herself another.

“It’s human to make mistakes, B’Elanna,” she continued in a kinder tone, “it’s how you react to them that defines what kind of person you become.”

B’Elanna unconsciously glanced at the mess she’d made during her earlier fit and rolled her eyes.

“Well, Captain, not all of us are all human,” she said wryly.

Janeway started laughing so hard at that B’Elanna wondered if the Captain was more drunk than she’d realized. Finally, the older woman calmed enough to smile at her and find her voice.

“Computer, restore Sandrine’s to original parameters.”

The lights flickered, the matrix resetting while in active mode, and the bar blinked back to pristine condition.

It was B’Elanna’s turn to laugh.

“If only what we’re talking about was that easy, Captain.”

Janeway nodded slowly and stared into her untouched drink for a long moment. Finally, she reached for the engineer’s glass and poured her the last shot in the bottle.

“That,” she said with a backward shrug of her shoulders, “was more than just anger. Seska turned on us all a long time ago but she died today. No matter what else she was, she was your best friend. To mourn someone even after they betrayed you, well, that’s human.”

B’Elanna felt tears pricking her eyes. She wasn’t sure if they were for Seska or for the compliment or the woman who gave it. She dug her fingernails into her thigh to will them away and silently thanked Kahless Janeway was kind enough to busy herself with straightening her perfectly pressed uniform.

It was a long time before either of them spoke but finally the captain broke the silence by scraping her glass across the bar top. She lifted it and motioned for B’Elanna to do the same.

“To remembering old friends,” she declared, “and trusting new ones.”

B’Elanna raised her glass to her smiling lips and finished off the whiskey.

She recognized there were many personal layers laced into the captain’s toast and none of them she could discuss with her infamously private superior officer. But for the first time since coming aboard, she imagined there might come a day she could call Kathryn Janeway “friend.”

That felt good.

Good enough, even, to risk trusting yet again.


End file.
